


cut through the clouds

by mmtion



Series: tumblr prompts [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Prank War, Summer Camp AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmtion/pseuds/mmtion
Summary: Camp Star is like a second home to Iris, having visited every summer for the past eight years. Now she's a cabin leader, and fully prepared for the camp's favourite tradition: a prank war between cabins.With her little brother joining her at the camp for the first time, and the opportunity to finally beat her longtime rival, Barry Allen, this summer is shaping up to be the best yet.





	cut through the clouds

**Author's Note:**

> time and time again, much love and thanks must go to @sophisticatedloserchick for her editing and support and general amazingness.

This summer is Wally’s first at Star Camp, and he’s almost bouncing in his seat as the GPS on her Iris’s phone announces they’re only five minutes from their destination.

In the driver’s seat, Iris tries to bite back her grin - partly at her little brother’s enthusiasm, but also the rising joy in her own stomach, the overwhelming sense of ‘welcome home’.

She first came to Camp Star a year after her mom passed, when she was quiet and withdrawn and mourning, and her dad was running out of ideas. And she  _loved it_. She comes every summer for the full three-week term, and she knows all the camp counsellors and other returning campers. This’ll be her second year being a leader, and she’s so damn excited that she’s giving Wally’s grin a run for its money.

They round the familiar bend and the sign appears, surrounded by greenery with wooden fences bordering the entrance. As they drive into the camp, the faintest view of the lake can be seen through the tall trees, the happy laughter of playing kids filters through the open windows. Wally twists about in his chair, straining against his seat belt, to take it all in. He’s been hearing stories about Iris’s time here for years, and has been begging to go for nearly all that time; this year marks his tenth birthday, finally being old enough to come.

They park on the gravel and Wally is immediately bouncing out. Iris quickly scrambles out of the car so she can call after him, “Wally! Wait!”

He begrudgingly comes back to the car so she can hand him his backpack, filled with his clothes and possessions, and crouch down to his level.

“Now, you know I won’t be your camp counsellor,” Iris says, because as excited as she is for him, she also can’t help the worry that comes with being the older sister.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wally says. “Duh. You’re a girl, so you get girl campers. You’ve explained this to me.”

She fights back a smile at his attitude. “Yes, but what I’m trying to say is that doesn’t mean you can’t ever come to find me if you need me. I’m still your sister, okay?”

She thinks he’s just going to brush her off like before, but instead, without even looking around to check no-one’s looking like he usually does, he darts in for a tight hug. She buries her face in his neck, holding him close, and hopes these three weeks live up to his expectations.

He pulls away, hoisting his backpack more securely onto his shoulders. “I can’t wait to find out what colour team I am!” he cries, before running over to where all the other kids being left by their parents are congregating. Iris watches him go, fond smile on her lips. She’d been worried for a bit that he might be nervous, but she can see him immediately start talking to one of the girls, gesturing wildly.

She’s probably bias, but she thinks he’s one of the best people ever. Despite being bullied a lot in elementary school, her little brother somehow continues to be a constant ray of sunshine and excitement, always wanting to learn new dorky things and meet new friends. She’s hoping these few weeks will give him the last bit of confidence before he enters junior school this fall.

She grabs her own backpack and small suitcase, tucking her car keys into her pocket. The car had been a gift from her dad for her eighteenth birthday, a small blue Honda that had definitely seen better days. In the boot hides a whole other bag, full of random items including, but not limited to: whipped cream, shaving cream, duct tape, balloons, lube and fourteen alarm clocks.

Because, while they’ll never officially promote it on the leaflets, the prank war between leaders is a steadfast and amazing camp tradition.

Not only is it a great bonding technique, especially in the early days of camp when new kids are shy or nervous (which is why the supervisors usually turn a blind eye), but it’s a matter of real competition between the leaders. Last year, it had been Diana and her cabin who had beaten everyone else into submission. Iris and her cabin had been the victims of an unfortunate itching powder attack, which had left them washing their clothes in the lake and conceding by the eighth day. But this year, she is prepared.

She starts to walk to the sycamore maple, the unofficial centre of camp where the leaders always meet at the start of camp, when her eye catches on Harrison Wells, camp manager, waving her over. Frowning, she goes to him. “Wells?” she asks, coming to a stop in front of him. He looks terse – even for him. “What’s up?”

“Iris,” he greets. “Good to see you arrived safely. I was wondering if I could have a quick word. Discreetly.”

She’s a little confused, but, “Sure, of course.”

He looks like the words pain him as he says, “My daughter, Jesse. She’s finally convinced me to allow her to come to camp this summer.”

“Oh!” Iris raises her eyebrows. “That’s great! She’ll have loads of fun.” Then she catches his expression. “Um, won’t she?”

“My daughter is very intelligent for her age. She is also what can only be described as a troublemaker.” He sighs. “It’s why I wanted her going to another camp, but she made a whole… presentation.” His hand twitches in a gesture, as if still bitter than he was so apparently easily persuaded.

“Ah,” Iris says, still confused about what she can offer to help. “Uh, do you want us leaders to go over the security procedures again? Or do you want us to be strict with her…?”

“She’s in your cabin,” Wells says. “She shouldn’t give you any attitude, but my concern is that she will go off wandering by herself. She’s irritatingly independent like that.”

Iris, wisely, does not point out that encouraging independence is one of the main selling points of the camp.

“I’ll definitely keep an eye on her,” Iris assures him. Her chest swells with warm pride: Wells is in charge of assigning kids to leaders, so he obviously chose her. Having known Wells for a few years, however, she doesn’t comment on this, knowing he’d just brush it off in his usual gruff way. For a camp manager, he can come across as rather... unfriendly.

He nods. “Good, good. Alright, run off to the sycamore tree, now – I believe there’s a bag of red t-shirts with your name on.”

Her mouth falls open. “No way. I thought I would be navy again!”

He shrugs, and she knows she’s not imagining the small smile on his face as he walks away and to the growing huddle of kids, where already one is crying.

Another unspoken rule of Camp Star: everyone knows that red and yellow cabins are the unofficial leaders – and usually the last two standing when it comes to the prank war. The rivalry between the two colours is the longest-running, and often most cut-throat. One kid from the yellow team a few years back spent four hundred dollars to hire a mariachi band, and the red team once turned everyone’s skin bright crimson for a whole week.

She can’t hold back her excited grin as she makes her way along the path, passing familiar cabins and outdoor activities and signposts. Her excitement is practically palatable.

When she arrives at the sycamore maple, there’s already five leaders there, making her the second-to-last to arrive. They’re all chatting animatedly, already wearing their cabin colours. Cisco is blue, Cindy is purple – unsurprisingly, the two are already arguing. Diggle is wearing a bright green, nodding a smile at her over the head of Kara wearing pink, and Amaya is just pulling on her own navy t-shirt. They all halt their own conversations as they see her: Cisco calls, “Congratulations on red, Iris!”

She mockingly bows to their laughter. “Thanks, guys.”

“How’s Wally?” Amaya asks as Iris picks up her bag.

“He’s really excited,” Iris admits. “It’s possible I may have spent too much time in the past eight years psyching him up.” She pulls off her spaghetti-strap top, revealing her halter-neck bikini for just a moment before she slides on her red t-shirt, practically glowing with pride. Somehow, this is a feeling just about on par with getting accepted into her dream university and getting prom queen a few months ago.

Then she realises: none of them are wearing yellow. She frowns. “Wait.”

Cindy snickers. “Ooh, guys, I think she’s worked it out.”

Iris’ bad feeling grows as she leans over to read the name scrawled on the last bag’s label. There, clear as day:

“Barry!” Kara cries from behind her, and Iris whirls to see him approach.

Iris and Barry both arrived to camp the same year and every summer since then. Despite multiple common experiences (such as recently losing a mother) and personality qualities (being stubborn as a mule, for one) the two had never particular seen eye to eye. Which is probably a mild way of putting things – their best pranks had been on each other, their bickering could last for hours, and on one memorable occasion, Iris had ended up shaving Barry’s head. He utterly irritated her, and she was expecting nothing less this summer. Except-

Except suddenly, somehow, he had gotten hot.

Had she missed that?  _How_  had she missed that? He had always had those cheekbones, been tall for his age, and the braces he sported in eighth grade had certainly sharpened his smile. But now, his hair was ruffled rather than just messy, and his arms were lean rather than just spindly, and something about the way he walked- She shook herself out of it. The sun must just be especially hot on her face today, that’s all.

She raises a brow as he comes forward, and he’s already smirking at her. “So, Allen, you’re yellow.”

“And I see you’re red.” He grins, pulling off his own shirt to replace it with his camp one. She catches sight of freckled, toned chest and she has to quickly look up so she doesn’t stare like some kind of creep. What the hell is wrong with her?

He pulls on the new cotton, and faces her properly, still wearing that irritating grin. “So,” he says. “What do you say that we put aside the ridiculous tradition of yellow-red rivalry, huh? Should we be mature, and stop the pranks?”

It only takes her a split-second to realise he’s joking, but she pretends to consider it, stepping closer. Around them, most of the leaders are calling out their disapproval at the suggestion: perhaps predictably, only Diggle looks to be interested in the idea. She insinuates herself into his space – which may have been a tactical error considering their height difference – and looks up at him. She cocks a brow.

“You scared, Allen?”

Kara, gratifyingly, lets out a long “Ooh!” but Iris and Barry don’t break eye contact.

Wordlessly, Barry extends a hand. She’s not at all ashamed to admit she checks it for a buzzer before grasping it. They shake. “Let camp begin,” he says solemnly, though mischief glimmers in his green eyes.

Before she can respond, they all hear a whistle pierce the forest air, the alert for camp to start. Iris steps away from Barry, and jogs away to walk back down to the car park with Cindy. She’s already plotting her first move – this summer is going to be  _awesome_.

-

The camp leaders go in first name alphabetical order to call out their cabin, which means Amaya goes first, followed by Barry, who takes great pleasure in reading the name, “Wally West,” from his list, deliberately not looking at Iris. Iris, for her part, decides to be mature about it, only giving her little brother a discreet thumbs-up as he joins with the seven other boys who excitedly put on their yellow colours.

Only Kara stands between her and Barry, so she easily leans behind him to whisper at Barry, “This doesn’t change anything.”

Then Cisco calls out his team, then Cindy, Diggle and Kara, and then it’s only Iris left. There’s eight girls left in the centre of the group, looking uncertain. Iris reads out from her clipboard, “Jesse, Kendra, Laurel, Sara, Thea, Linda, Felicity and Megan.” One by one, each of them responds, and they all come over to her with a range of emotion between excitement and trepidation. All the other groups are chatting amongst themselves, and Iris crouches down to squat and hand out the red t-shirts.

“Alright, girls,” she greets, smiling. “My name’s Iris, and welcome to the red cabin! Now, who’s been to Camp Star before?”

Laurel and Sara both raise their hands: at ages thirteen and fourteen, Iris does recognise them from the past two summers, though they usually get split up on account of them being sisters. But then she remembers her dad telling her something about their parents divorcing messily, and she thinks she might understand Wells’ thought process.

“Cool,” Iris says. “Can you tell us anything important the other girls might want to know about the red team?”

She’s prepared for an awkward silence, which she can equally use as a springboard to her introductory speech, but to her surprise, Laurel replies with an adorable confidence, “The red team always do the worst pranks.”

The very word ‘prank’ sends the other girls into a flutter of excited conversation, and Iris’ smile grows. “Exactly,” she says. “And I have an idea for the first one of the summer. Who’s in?”

She holds her hand flat into the centre of their little circle, and each girl races to place their own one on top. Together, the nine of them lift up and cheer, imitating Iris, “Red team!”

The next step on the itinerary is for each leader to take their cabin on a guided tour – but Iris takes her girls straight to the lake.  When they arrive, Iris makes the girls gather around her and the water pump on the small beach. “This is Lake XXX,” she tells them, and then leans in to adopt a more secretive voice: “And you have to be really, really careful, because our lake has a resident.”

Laurel and Sara look unimpressed, presumably having heard the story before, but Iris carries on.

“Years ago, a camper actually drowned in the lake here. They went out exploring by themselves, and no-one could find them for three whole days. On the third day, the body washed up on the beach.” Iris keeps her expression solemn. “And you know what was weird about the body?”

Jesse shakes her head, eyes wide as saucepans.

“There were huge bite marks taken out of the camper!” Iris exclaims, privately pleased with making at least two of the girls jump at her sudden shift in tone.

“What from?” Linda asks.

“Well, rumour has it, though he’s never been seen, that our lake is home to a huge beast: King Shark.” Iris remembers hearing this story when she first arrived at camp, and she knows the story off by heart. “Some think he’s a government experiment; others think he evolved by himself. I even heard that once he caught the taste of human flesh, he couldn’t eat anything else. Now, he prowls the deepest parts of the lake, waiting for lone campers to snatch up.”

She catches Thea looking nervously at the lake, and count this story a success.

Felicity folds her arms. “But we’re supposed to be doing activities on the lake. My mom said we’d be learning how to kayak.”

“That’s very true,” Iris agrees. “And you will - but King Shark can only attack small campers by themselves. He gets scared by big groups, which is why we’ll be doing our activities all together.”

Felicity looks appeased, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. Iris claps her hands together. “Now, who wants to prank another cabin?”

There’s a variety of cheers and enthusiasm, and Iris pulls her backpack off her shoulders. She unzips, and reveals the collection of multi-coloured balloons she’s been keeping there. She says, coyly, “Let’s make sure they’re hydrated, huh?”

Shes remarkably impressed with the efficiency of the girls: they form a queue from the water pump, a sort of chain production line. Sara fills up each water balloon, and passes it to Megan, who quickly declared herself as the best knotter and ties the full balloons up. Megan then passes it to Thea, who passes it to Linda, who passes it to Jesse who helps Kendra pile them all at their chosen hiding place, behind the kayak storage hut. Meanwhile, Sara and Felicity keep watch for another team to arrive.

Iris supervises, helping to hand balloons to Sara to fill and generally calling words of encouragement. Within fifteen minutes, they have an impressive pile of wobbling water balloons, and they’re all hiding behind the cover of the hut. All the girls are giggling and whispering, and Iris considers the first activity of team bonding a success. The prank is an added bonus for her, obviously.

Within a few minutes, they hear rising chatter, and they all hush. Iris peeks out a little, and sees a group of yellow emerging from the trees.  _Perfect_.

Barry stands with his back to the hidden girls, facing his group of boys. Iris spots Wally standing near the front, listening with rapt attention. She hears Barry start, “Now, we all have to be careful around this lake, because if you go by yourself into the depths, you might not come back unscathed…”

Iris holds out her fingers to her girls, and counts down from three. As her thumb closes, she yells out, “Attack!”

Barry turns around at the sound just in time to receive a water balloon to the face, and honestly, Iris will keep the image of that for the rest of her life.

The chaos that ensues is a mess of water and screaming and laughing. Iris lets her girls do most of the throwing, with varying degrees of success. Sara hits every target she aims for with astonishing accuracy, while Felicity somehow manages to soak herself by throwing a balloon straight at her own feet. Iris is so busy feeling inordinately proud of her cabin that she doesn’t realise she’s been snuck up on until two arms circle her waist and lift her up.

“I have your leader!” Barry’s voice calls from behind her as she kicks out, unable to help her laughter. “Everyone stop, or I’ll dunk her in the lake!”

“Don’t do it, girls!” Iris yells. “We will never surrender!”

(It’s possible she’s already taking this little prank war too seriously.)

But, bless their hearts, the girls seem to pause. The boys in yellow are all soaked through, chests heaving from trying to dodge the onslaught.

Iris catches the eye of Kendra, and nods. Kendra actually salutes, before throwing her balloon straight at Leonard Snart’s face.

There’s a pause. Then, the battle picks up again with ferocity, with shrieks and yells. Some of the yellow team have made their way to the pile of balloons to return fire, and water splashes from all directions.

Iris is put down for a second, but she doesn’t even have a chance to try and escape as Barry simply readjusts his grip and picks her up to throw her over his shoulder. His palm is warm against the small of her back, and she half-heartedly slaps the available sections of his back as he starts walking into the lake. She’s protesting and laughing in equal measures, and she can hear the grin in Barry’s voice as he declares, “This is war.”

The next moment she’s being bodily thrown into the water.

She splutters to the surface, the lake only just deep enough to sit in, and flips back her hair. Barry stands to his knees, his shorts only just dipping in the water, and he seems to be trying – and failing – to maintain a stern expression. “Now, I hope-“

But he doesn’t get to finish the thought, because she leaps up to grab his t-shirt and pull him in as well.

He rights himself, spitting out water, and sits beside her in the water. She’s glad she left her phone back in her backpack on shore, and she assumes Barry had similar preparedness as they both just sit in the water, high enough to embrace just under their shoulder blades, watching their cabins play.

“I can’t believe you ambushed us,” Barry says.

“You’re just mad you didn’t think of it,” Iris points out, and Barry pulls a face as if to say, ‘fair point’.

“Still,” he says. “It’s what, the first hour?”

“It was for team bonding,” Iris defends, which is at least half true. “And look, it’s worked for your cabin as well.”

Barry makes a non-committal noise, which she decides to take as unequivocal agreement and reverence for her amazing plan. Then she notices he’s staring at her face.

“What?”

He reaches for her cheek, and then retracts, as if he didn’t even realise his hand was moving. He nods with his chin and says, “You have a bit of seaweed.”

She touches the spot he’d gestured at and, sure enough, her finger comes away slimy. “Gross,” she comments. “Oh, I bet it’s all in my hair as well.”

“Nah, you’re fine, as alw-“ He suddenly cuts himself off and turns back to the beach. The battle seems to have calmed down, presumably due to the finite number of balloons available. “Well, West, you’ve won this battle, but the war is far from over.”

He stands up, and offers his hand to help her – but she’s not stupid. She pushes herself up, letting his arm fall back to his side, and they make their way back on land to collect their kids.

-

The rest of the tour is relatively uneventful. Iris and her cabin catch sight of Amaya’s navy team chasing after Kara’s pink team with tennis balls, but honestly, she makes the deliberately decision to not get involved with that. She takes them to their own cabin, where the girls’ bags have been taken by some of the supervisors, and gives them a chance to settle. The topic of conversation is still the water balloon battle, however, and Iris is more than happy to let them relive their victory. She uses their distraction to scope out the cabin, her paranoia in full swing, wiping down the taps in case of laxatives and checking the cupboards for any snakes (the year of 2013 was a memorable one the blue cabin, to say the least.) 

They go the canteen for dinner, and then immediately to the first campfire of the summer. By this point, Iris is getting to know her girls well, knowing their personalities and their immediate interests. Kendra wants to become a pilot, and Laurel wants to be a lawyer. Jesse’s favourite subject is physics, and Thea is afraid of spiders. There haven’t been any arguments so far, and though it’s only the first night, Iris is hopeful that by the end of the three weeks, the girls will be good friends.

Nobody dares to prank another cabin at the campfire, especially under the watch of Wells, who leads camp songs and spooky tales with his usual deadpan attitude. By nine, its obvious most of the kids are getting tired, and they all go back to their cabins, ready for the ten o’clock curfew.

Iris goes to brush her teeth and shower the lake water off her, and when she comes back, her girls are in an enthusiastic discussion about the cabin leaders.

“And the yellow leader-“

“Barry,” Laurel supplies.

Linda continues as Iris re-enters the main part of the cabin. “Yeah, Barry. He’s  _so_  hot.”

To Iris’s surprise, most of the girls giggle in agreement. For some reason, she feels her cheeks heat up. “He’s the enemy,” she reminds them. “Remember, the yellow team are our biggest rivals.”

“Yeah, totally,” Kara says.

“But come on, don’t you think he’s cute?” Felicity presses.

“Nope,” Iris says, because she’d quite like to end this conversation as soon as possible. She claps her hands together. “Now, come on, lights out in half an hour! Everyone get your PJs on.”

-

They wake up the next morning to the sound of yelling. Iris immediately scrambles out of her bed and races out the door while her girls are still yawning and mumbling awake, her instincts kicking in. Opposite her, Barry emerges from his own cabin, hair sticking in all directions and shirtless. But they both share a look of seriousness, and the shouting comes again. This time, Iris actually can hear the words.

“I will kill you, Cisco Ramon!”

Iris feels herself deflate, the panic leaving her system. Barry’s head rolls back in a visible groan – Iris most certainly doesn’t notice the line of his throat, the bob of his Adam’s apple.

Amaya stumbles out of her own cabin next door. “What the fuck-?” She mumbles, rubbing her face in sleepiness. Iris checks her watch: god, it’s only six am. This had better be worth it.

Then, Kara herself stomps out of the shower, her cabin following her. Iris claps a hand over her mouth to stop the immediate laugh. Because Kara’s hair is a bright, cobalt blue.

Cisco, noticeably, is not coming out of his cabin. This could either be tactical in trying to avoid Kara’s wrath, or simply that he’s still asleep: Iris shared a tent with him once, and it’s not unreasonable that his own snores are muffling Kara’s outrage.

Kara stops, seeing that most of the other leaders are awake and staring. She takes a deep breath. “Ramon put hair dye in our shampoo,” she explains.

Iris takes in the troop of girls following the once-blonde, all equally tinged blue. Iris has got to admit, as opening statements go, this is a big one. She’s also pretty sure that if she looks to her right and catches the eye of Barry, they’re both going to end up laughing.

Kara looks to be visibly calming herself. “I think we’re out of the war, then.” It looks a sensible decision considering how traumatised her girls look. They’ll recover, especially with Kara’s famously chipper attitude, but damn, Cisco went  _hard_  for his first move.

-

Diggle is the next to bow out, thanks to Cindy’s master move of filling their entire cabin with a mixture of fake bugs and real ones.

Iris has to stop her own cabin on the route to their fencing class just to watch as Diggle brings out bucket after bucket of various creepy crawlies. He catches Iris’ stare, and levels a tired look at her. “I don’t know how she did it. There’s at least half a tonne of mealworms in there. And it’s been three days since we arrived.”

Though she gives Diggle her sympathy, she also can’t help high-fiving Cindy the next time she sees her. Genius must be rewarded, after all.

-

Iris isn’t surprised when retribution comes from the yellow cabin, but she  _is_  surprised at the originality, and the ambition, as she finds herself staring up at three of her cabin’s mattresses, somehow attached to a couple of trees in the main forest. The yellow cabin had even left a trail of clues for Iris to follow.

She’s standing there, trying to work out exactly how they got them up there, and how she’s meant to get them down, as Barry himself saunters past. He looks up at the mattresses perfectly innocently. “Wow, West,” he comments. “That’s some impressive sleep-walking.”

“I hate you.”

-

Cell phones aren’t encouraged on camp - the kids are supposed to put theirs in a box, only to use for one hour a day, and the leaders should only keep theirs for emergency. The reception is terrible, anyway. So, Iris has to resort to other measures when she wants to wake up her little brother in the middle of the night.

The real conundrum is sneaking into the yellow cabin without raising suspicion or waking anyone else up. Luckily, she’s a pro.

She takes off her shoes and sneaks on the floorboards close to the nails to avoid creaking, and when she reaches Wally’s bunk, easily recognising his sleeping face on one of the bottom bunks, she puts her hand over his mouth to wake him up. She’s a little worried for his fight-or-flight instinct that his only reaction, upon waking and finding someone with their hand over his mouth, is to roll his eyes. She lets go. “What time is it?” he asks in a muted groan.

“Only midnight, come on,” she gestures. “I snuck us some ice cream.”

That seems to wake him up, at least. They go to the lake, and Iris hands out the spare blanket and the bucket of ice cream she snuck from the supervisor cabin earlier. The ice cream’s a little melted, but she hands Wally a spoon and he seems happy enough.

“Mint’s my favourite,” he says, pleased with the first scoop.

“I know,” she replies, directing her fond smile over the reflective lake.

“So, what’s up?” Wally asks after a few bites. Then his tone turns suspicious. “This isn’t part of a prank, is it?”

“No, I promise,” she says. “I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t get a chance to during the day until the red and yellow teams have a class together. How are you enjoying camp?”

Though she’d seen enough of him smiling and having fun with his cabin, she still wouldn’t be able to ease her over-protectiveness or worry until she’d heard it for herself.

He nods quickly. “It’s so fun, Iris. Jefferson, from my cabin, is  _so cool_. He knows how to fix cars! And he doesn’t live that far away from us, only a couple of hours’ drive, and he said he’d teach me about engines and stuff.”

“That is really cool,” Iris agrees, lips curling up.

“And Leonard was mean at first, but then Barry had a word with him or something, and now he’s being nice. He’s still kind of snarky, but now it’s in a funny way, you know?”

“Barry did, huh?” Iris asks - none of the supers had mentioned any internal issues in the cabins, which means Barry must have dealt with it quietly, and quickly. Despite herself, she’s glad, especially if this Leonard kid was giving her brother attitude.

“Yeah, Barry’s the best,” Wally says, and Iris isn’t exaggerating the reverence in his voice. “He does athletics, and he’s really fast at running, and he raced me and he let me win but he said that I was honestly really quick, and if I started training now, I could be way faster than him. I’m going to join the athletics club this fall, I’ve decided.”

Iris’ heart swells - it’s the first time she’s heard Wally talk positively about the upcoming school year, and she could forgive Barry all his annoying faults for that fact alone. “I’ll buy you some special sneakers,” she promises.

“Barry says if I practise enough, I can get some sneakers with spikes in that’ll make me go even faster,” he enthuses around a mouthful of mint ice cream.

“Dad can get you those,” Iris replies, sure that their father will be just as pleased with Wally’s new-found interest.

“Awesome,” Wally says, digging back into the tub. “Didn’t you do athletics?”

“Nah,” Iris says. “Just cheer. But, there was one time where I raced Barry, actually.”

Wally turns with raised eyebrows, ice cream forgotten. “What? When?”

She thinks back, trying to grab hold of the foggy memory. “It must have been our second summer here or something. This was way before his growth spurt. Anyway, we made a stupid bet about who could be the first to find a conker. It was really dumb, especially since it wasn’t even conker season yet. So we were racing through the forest.” She pauses, and takes the time to warn, “Which you must never do.”

Wally makes a ‘duh’ sound. “And then what happened?”

“I found this  _huge_  horse chestnut tree. Right in the middle of the forest. And then Barry arrived at pretty much the same time. And we ended up just throwing loads of rotten or unripe conkers at each other.” She pulls a face. “Not exactly very mature.”

Wally digs back into the ice cream. “So you’ve known Barry for ages, huh.”

She shrugs. “We’ve just both been here at the same time every summer.”

Her brother makes a thoughtful noise, but doesn’t say anything else. Then he elbows her, and teases, “Also, I heard that Eddie on my team has a crush on you.”

Iris rolls her eyes. “No, he doesn’t. Which one is Eddie?”

“The blonde one,” he says. “Patty from the purple team says she’s going to ask him out on Friday, though.”

Iris hides her smile. “Well, Patty’s welcome to him.”

They chat for a bit longer, but Iris is well aware that tomorrow, the red team are going kayaking, and she doesn’t want Wally to be tired for that. Also, she’s a little surprised by how quickly he’s chomping his way through the pint of ice cream.

She helps Wally sneak back into his room - the last thing she wants is for the rest of his cabin to think Wally’s working against them or something. So she points out where he needs to step, and waits in the doorway until he’s back in bed. It’s only then, as she turns to leave, that her eyes catch on a pair of green ones, awake and watching her. Barry’s lying down, silently observing her. She whispers, “I was just talking to my brother, I promise.”

He sits up, the sheets falling away from him and revealing a bare chest. He doesn’t look mad, and confirms it when he says, “Yeah, I know. Don’t worry.”

She nods. “Right. Okay then.”

She leaves, and doesn’t think about the way he just trusted her, or the way his pupils were blown in the dark light. Not at all.

-

Though science isn’t the most exciting subject the camp has to offer, Martin Stein always manages to make it fun, no matter the age group or type of kid involved. So Iris is happy to stand back with Amaya as their two cabins watch Stein do an impressive chemistry demonstration – Iris has sat through it before, so she knows her girls are going to love the uncontrollable foam that’ll make its appearance soon.

She and Amaya lean against the back wall. “How’s your cabin, then?” Iris asks quietly, not wanting to disturb the class.

“Pretty good,” Amaya replies. “One of the girls got homesick for the first few days, but she’s settled down now. And I keep having to stop Alex from going to join her sister’s cabin or her friend Maggie’s.”

“Maggie?” Iris asks – she already knows Kara, obviously.

“She’s on Cindy’s team,” Amaya explains. “Although if you ask me, they’re more than friends.”

“Bless them,” Iris says. “Luckily none of mine seem to have much interest in finding camp romances yet.”

Amaya nudges Iris’ ribs with her elbow. “Yeah, you’d know all about them, right?”

Iris frowns. “What?”

For a second, she thinks Amaya’s talking about the crush the kid Eddie apparently has on her, but then Amaya rolls her eyes and clarifies, “You and Barry.”

Iris feels her entire face heat up and hisses, “What? No. We- no.”

Amaya’s brows rise. “You two haven’t hooked up? I thought that was common knowledge, come on.”

Iris shakes her head quickly enough that some of her hair falls from her loose side-braid. “No. Never. Why- is there a rumour going round?”

Amaya shrugs. “I don’t think so. I just assumed – you two always seem a bit too into the pranking, you know?”

“We’re the red and yellow cabins,” Iris defends, trying not to raise her voice in panic.

“Yeah, but you two always bicker, every year. The vendetta just seemed very personal.” Amaya raises her hands in surrender. “But you say it isn’t happening, I believe you.”

“No, it isn’t happening,” Iris says, vehemently. “It will  _never_  happen.”

“Right,” Amaya says, though she’s still looking at Iris a little strangely.

Thankfully, Sara provides a perfect distraction as she raises her hand to answer one of Stein’s questions. But as she speaks, her voice is obviously slurring and lisping.

Amaya looks at Iris with an alarmed expression. “Is she having a stroke?”

But Iris only huffs. “No, we got hit by the classic Orajel move.” At her friend’s confused expression, Iris explains. “The yellow team put Orajel on all our toothbrushes – four of the girls got their entire mouths numbed before we cottoned on.”

“The yellow team, huh?” Amaya confirms, her tone just a tad too innocent.

Iris narrows her eyes. “Yes.”

“So, what, that’s at least three pranks on your cabin from Barry’s?”

“Yeah, he’s working fast.” Iris isn’t too worried – slow and steady is the way to win this, she’s sure of it.

Amaya makes a non-committal hum. “Or, he hasn’t actually pranked anyone else yet.”

Iris frowns. “Of course he has.” But now she thinks about it, she can’t think of any of the other teams complaining about a red prank. She shoots a look to Amaya, who is now looking rather too smug for Iris’ tastes, and says quickly, “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure it doesn’t,” Amaya says agreeably. “I’m sure it’s just that red-yellow rivalry, right?”

“Exactly,” Iris says. But Amaya’s expression remains aloof. Iris scowls, and makes a note to target the navy cabin next.

-

Iris will maintain for the rest of her life that their prank was a spectacular one. She and her red-shirted girls managed to place a selection of fourteen alarm clocks, all set at variant times between four and half four am, around the blue cabin.

The only flaw, she would argue, was that they were  _too_  good at executing the plan: the alarms managed to wake up the entire camp, much to everyone’s annoyance.

So, Iris has made the executive decision to have the red team lay low for a while. They certainly aren't bowing out, but she didn’t want anyone to actually dislike her cabin, especially when her girls were turning out to be such great people. They’re enthusiastic, kind, and there’s been barely any arguments. They came close over a misunderstanding over jean shorts, but luckily Iris managed to find the other pair before Megan burst into tears at being accused of stealing them.

Iris drops off the girls at the rock-climbing wall. They’re under Selina’s capable instruction, so she feels fine in leaving them to go grab a coffee from the supervisor cabin.

But as she’s walking along the trail, paying more attention to a squirrel jumping from tree to tree alongside her, she physically bumps into someone, almost falling back on her ass. She steadies herself, and realises who it is: Barry.

In their collision, he’s dropped what he was carrying, and she instinctively crouches down to help him. She frowns. “Why have you got a load of Diggle’s t-shirts? He’s out of the prank war.”

Barry sighs. “They’re not Diggle’s, they’re my cabin’s.”

Iris holds one up to prove her point: “They’re green.”

He snatches it back from her. “Cisco put a load of blue dye in the laundry load I put on. I presume he was meaning to turn them blue-“

“As is his signature move, apparently,” Iris interjects.

Barry snorts, and continues. “But apparently, he forgot his colour theory or whatever.”

“Blue and yellow makes green,” Iris agrees, looking at the bright evidence. “Wow. What are you going to do?”

He shrugs, and she’s surprised to realise how genuinely dejected he seems. “No idea. If the colour doesn’t come out in another wash, I guess we’ll have to bow out. These were all the t-shirts we have – they were all muddy from the dirt-biking they did yesterday, so I offered to clean them all while they’re swimming in the lake today.”

Iris should be celebrating, right? Her prank enemy has been vanquished. But, well, he was only trying to do something nice for his cabin, and he just looks so sad, both for himself and his cabin. It’s only the first week, after all.

And anyway, she wanted to be the one to defeat him. Red-yellow enemies, after all.

She lets out a long exhale. “Fuck it. Come with me.”

He frowns as she stands up, gesturing for him to follow suit. “What?”

Folding her arms across her chest, she says, “I’m going to drive you to the nearest store so we can buy some colour remover. Or some new yellow t-shirts.”

He stands, looking unsure. “You’d do that?”

“Don’t make me change my mind,” she threatens, already stalking towards the car park. There’s a second, but then she hears him jogging to catch up and fall into step beside her. She texts Selina, Kara and Wells, telling them she’s making an emergency trip to the store but she should be back before the rock-climbing session is over.

As Barry climbs into the front seat, twisting to chuck the t-shirts into the back, she starts the car. She begins to reverse, and hears him say, quietly and sincere, “Thanks, Iris.”

The nearest supermarket is at least a twenty-minute drive away, and for the first five minutes, they travel in silence.

“So why aren’t you rock-climbing?” Barry asks, eventually, obviously just wanting to break the quiet.

“They didn’t need me,” Iris says, but of course that’s not enough for him.

“You didn’t fancy joining in?”

She knows in her gut that he’s obviously not going to let this go, and she sighs. “I don’t like heights, okay?”

He frowns. “But- you got the mattresses down.”

She reaches over to sock him in the bicep. “Yeah, thanks for that. I had to get a special harness attached and cut through the ropes. Took the whole afternoon, and most of the evening pulling the twigs out.”

He sniggers at the memory, but then sobers. “For real though, I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.”

She looks at him sideways. “That would’ve stopped you?”

“Of course,” he says, and she’s surprised that she actually believes him, that his voice is sincere.

“Well,” she says. “It was fine – my cabin encouraged me. But if you could refrain from having any more pranks seven feet off the ground, that would be great.”

She can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “Duly noted.”

They arrive at the supermarket still laughing over Barry’s impression of Wells, Iris having to tell him to, “Stop, stop it, I need to concentrate to park, you’re making my stomach hurt.”

When Iris grabs a trolley, Barry frowns at her. “We’re getting like, one packet of colour remover,” he points out, teasing.

She responds, maturely, by ramming the trolley at his legs and making him stumble forward. “We might need to pick up twenty yellow t-shirts, dumbass, and I’m not going to carry them all.”

He shrugs at that, and walks by her side as they move through the aisles towards the clothing section. “You know,” he says, making new conversation. “If we show up with new yellow t-shirts, Cisco’s going to know you helped me.”

“No, he’s not,” Iris argues. “For all he knows, the colour washed out in the next laundry load. And anyway, anyone could’ve helped you. Maybe Martin has a soft spot for you.”

“Martin does have a soft spot for me, I was the only one who knew why the colour changed in the alkaline solution,” Barry points out, making Iris roll her eyes skyward. “But no, seriously, we’re not going to find an exact replica. And you’re the only one with your own car.”

She hadn’t thought of that, and her lips twist in thought.

He accurately judges her expression, and adds, “You losing your edge, West?”

She hip-checks him. “Shut up – I’m doing this for my brother. I want him to have the proper camp experience, not lose a prank war in the first five days.”

“Right, of course.” He looks at her sideways. “Wally’s a really good kid, by the way.”

“Yeah, he is,” she agrees. She takes a second to consider, before admitting, “He says you’re a really good leader. As much as it pains me to admit it.”

A grin breaks out on Barry’s face, and he cups his ear, mocking, “Sorry, what was that? Could you repeat that?”

Despite herself, she’s laughing. “I said Wally said it! I never said I agreed with him.” But he’s still jumping around and she fights the urge to drive the trolley at him again. Instead, a burst of yellow catches her eye, and she sees the perfect rack of t-shirts. “Shut up, look!”

Barry comes to a stop to appraise the shirts, even as Iris is moving forward to check for sizes and start pulling them into the cart. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Iris asks. She takes a second look, and realises what Barry’s so distraught about: they are the ugliest shirts she’s ever seen, complete with a tacky sequin design over the left breast. Barry has a pained expression, and turns the one he’s holding around so she can see the back, forcing a laugh from her.

“Surf’s up,” Barry reads in a monotone voice. “ _Losers_.”

Iris can’t help her giggles. She gestures, teasing, “Come on, put it on, model it for me. How can you expect the boys to respect you if you don’t respect the t-shirt?”

He gives her a long-suffering look, and then, much to her surprise, actually pulls on the t-shirt over his vest. It barely fits, tight around the breast yet baggy around the arms.

“What size is this?” he asks, pulling at the hem. Before waiting for her reply, he pulls it up over his head – but with it comes his wife-beater vest as well, leaving him bare-chested in the middle of the store.

Iris feels inexplicably hot all over, and turns her direction to the other shirts, checking to find all the small and extra-small sizes she can.

“Medium,” he answers his own question. “Huh.”

She’s picked out the fifteen tops just as he’s putting his vest back on, apparently not bothered by half-nudity (which seems unfair when she is so embarrassingly affected).

“Come on,” she says, perhaps a bit brusquely. “Let’s get these and get back to camp.”

Later that evening, it’s only Iris that knows the truth as Barry marches his cabin, wearing their ill-fitting, yellow t-shirts (turned inside out for decency) to the campfire, and Cisco lets out an exclamation of, “ _How?_ ” much to everyone else’s confusion.

And it’s only Iris that notices Barry’s wink in her direction.

-

The next day, Iris and her cabin have to free Amaya and her girls, who are quite literally duct taped to a tree each. When Iris cuts Amaya down, Amaya lands lightly on her feet with a frosty expression. “We’re done,” she declares. “And no, I’m not going to tell you how Cindy did it.”

“Fair enough,” Iris replies.

-

So, it’s only Barry, Iris, Cisco and Cindy left in the game. Iris has used up all her initial ideas, and they’re only halfway through the second week, so she uses the space in between a creative writing class with Supervisor Cat Grant and a kickboxing lesson with Amanda to have a group meeting with her cabin.

“We need new ideas,” Iris says. “We have an advantage in that I can get some supplies with my car, but if I do it too much, Wells is going to enforce a stricter policy. I have whipped and shaving cream, red paint, rope and some other stuff.”

“Red paint?” Sara perks up. “Let’s fake your death.”

Iris blinks. “What?”

“Yeah!” Iris will admit she’s a little taken aback by the sudden enthusiasm Thea displays. “Yeah, we’ll tell Barry some guy took you into the forest, and then you can pretend to scream, and then he can find you. We’ll put the red paint on your throat or chest or something.”

It’s an original idea, Iris will give them that, and she gives it a moment’s consideration. But then she thinks about if the tables were turned, how she’d feel if she thought she’d come across Barry’s body, and she immediately feels like retching.

“No,” she says, bluntly. Then she softens her voice at the dejection on the two girls’ faces, amending, “I just think it’s needs to be something, ah, a little less dark. Any other ideas?”

There’s a pause as they all think, interrupted after a moment by Kendra, who says, “Oh!”

“What is it?” Iris asks.

Kendra hesitates, and then asks, “Do they have red kool-aid in the canteen?”

That’s how they all find themselves, late at night and just before curfew, unscrewing all the showerheads and putting kool-aid inside. When the hot water comes out, it’ll be perfectly sticky, gross, and, most importantly, bright red. They’ve left one free for themselves to use in the morning, and Iris has to commend Kendra on her genius, really.

Iris is sneaking them all back to the cabin just before Wells does his nightly patrol when she sees Barry, sneaking off into the woods. She frowns, and pauses. In front of her, Jesse notices the pause, and halts as well. “Iris?”

Iris gestures for the girls to continue. “You all go to bed – I’ll be back in a sec.”

She finds herself following him – half of it is paranoia over what he could be doing, and the other half, she’ll admit, is simply curiosity. She finds him at the lake, sitting on the beach and watching the waves. It’s almost exactly the same spot she always comes to when she needs to relax, or think, or get away from the bustle of the cabins.

She can’t help but feel guilty, like a voyeur, as he reaches up to scrub through the back of his hair. But then the gesture triggers something inside her, and a memory rises, from so deep in her mind she can’t be sure whether it’s real or not.

But she remembers following Barry before: she remembers finding him at this same location, only he was about half the size and it was their first summer here, rather than their eighth.

She remembers finding him and hearing his muffled tears and sniffling. She remembers going to sit next to him, silently, and waiting. Eventually he must have given up, and leaned his head on her shoulder, wiping away the tears gracelessly with the palm of his hand. She remembers sitting there with him, knowing what was upsetting him without having to ask, and watching the reflection of the moon on the water surface like it could heal them both.

In the present moment, she steps back, not wanting to intrude any more than she already has done. She goes back to her cabin but she doesn’t manage to get to sleep for a while yet.

-

The kool-aid prank is a great success, leaving Cisco and his cabin sticky and irritated, but apparently that means the showers are now a free-for-all for pranks. Iris goes for one that same afternoon, knowing that the red sugar has all been washed out by now. She’s just toweling off when she hears giggling – perhaps it reflects poorly on her that it takes her a second to wonder what it could be.

Then her clothes, hanging over the door to her cubicle, get ripped away, and the giggling turns into outright laughter. Iris wraps her towel around her body for decency and slams the door open, trying to catch the boys before they manage to get too far with her clothes.

But as she does so, her eyes immediately land on Barry, taking the clothes back from two of his yellow-clothed boy. “Come on, Eddie, I told you we weren’t going to…” He trails off as he catches sight of her.

It’s then she realises just how little the towel covers: she only brought her smaller one with the obvious intentions of just needing to dry off her body before getting back into her clothes. She freezes.

Barry’s eyes are hot, and she could probably trace the path they take down her body and then back up to his face. She feels warm all over, and she licks her lips in self-consciousness. He stares at the movement.

Breaking the spell, Eddie takes advantage of their lull and grabs back the clothes, taking off at a sprint leaving only laughter echoing behind him. He’s accompanied by Leonard, and as if they planned it, they split up the loot and run in different directions. Helpless, Barry and Iris can only watch them go.

Barry turns back to Iris. “I did try to stop them,” he says.

She deflates. “I really don’t want to walk back across the whole camp in just this.”

Barry shakes his head quickly. “Nope. No, you’d probably cause some injuries. Here.” Before she can ask what he means, he’s pulling at his t-shirt collar and dragging it off and over his head.

“Oh my god, stop taking your shirt off!” She blurts out, immediately regretting it.

He pauses, arms still in the sleeves but chest bare, his hair ruffled at the back from the moment. “What?”

She feels like she’s going to melt into a puddle of Iris-flavoured goo, and quite frankly, it would be preferable to the knowing gleam in his eyes. “Nothing,” she mutters, snatching his shirt and pulling it over her. Luckily, he’s wearing one of the largest shirts they took from the supermarket, and it falls to her thighs. It’ll be enough to cover her modesty to get back to her cabin, at least.

But Barry persists, damn him. “You’ve noticed me taking my shirt off?”

“No,” Iris lies. “I’m just-”

Depending on who you ask, it’s both fortunate and unfortunate that at that moment, Iris is interrupted from having to explain herself by the appearance of Wells, walking along the path past the bathroom. He stops, catching sight of them, and a single brow raises.

Then Iris realises what this must look like: Iris, wearing Barry’s shirt, while Barry himself is bare-chested, both of them standing at the showers.

Wells looks actively pained. “Allen. West. May I see you two in my office? Now.”

Iris swallows. “Um, can I get-”

He looks skyward for strength. “Yes, Miss West, you can change your clothes. Just- be quick about it.”

When she gets to Wells’ office, Barry is already sat in one of two chairs facing the large desk, Wells on the other side. As she sits down, Barry noticeably avoiding her gaze, wearing a non-camp t-shirt and staring at a random spot on the wall. She wordlessly hands him the borrowed top and takes her own seat.

“Now, I’m sure you both know why I called you here.”

Iris looks to Barry for support, but that bit of wall is still, apparently, far more fascinating. “Uh…”

“We don’t like to necessarily stop cabin leaders from dating, but it can get awkward, which is why I wish you two had told me before you…” he pauses for the right. “Ah, got together.”

Iris frowns, sure she’s misunderstanding this. “Wells, do you think me and Barry are dating?”

Wells steeples his fingers, leaning his elbows on the desk. “There’s no need to deny it. Like I say, we don’t want to stop you if this is what you two want, we just want to make sure we have it on record, and that it doesn’t affect your roles within camp.”

Iris can’t let this continue. “We’re not!” she exclaims. “We’re not dating. Not at all.”

“Miss West, really, it’s okay.”

“But we’re not! It’s not going to affect our leadership because our relationship is non-existent.” Iris protests. She turns to Barry. “Little bit of back up might be nice.”

Barry clears his throat, looking equally as uncomfortable. “Honestly, we’re not dating. I lent Iris my t-shirt because some of my cabin stole her clothes as a prank.” At Wells’ raised eyebrows, he ducks his head. “That I did not condone at all.”

Wells makes a thoughtful noise from the back of his throat. “This conversation would remain confidential if you’re worried about the other leaders’ reactions.”

“I promise,” Iris says. “We’re not seeing each other. We haven’t even played Spin the Bottle together.”

Barry’s hides his snort of laughter by coughing into his fist.

Wells doesn’t look convinced, but he also seems to realise they’re not going to change their answer. He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Right. Well, if you two have any changes in circumstances… Please tell me. My door is always open, except when I’m sleeping or I don’t want to deal with you kids anymore.”

“Fair enough,” Barry says, standing. He still won’t look at Iris, as she gets out of her chair as well and follows him out.

They walk along the path in silence. Iris’ cabin is off in a class with Stein, and she’s pretty sure Barry’s group are with Cat, if she remembers the schedule properly. She sticks her hands in her short pockets. “I wonder if he’s given the same talk to any of the other campers,” she asks, jokingly, just to break the silence.

“Maybe,” Barry says, not sounding particularly enthusiastic about the topic of conversation.

“Like, Cindy and Cisco maybe,” Iris wonders aloud, well aware that her forced joviality is probably coming across super awkward, but unable to stop it. She figures that silence is probably worse than conversation, surely.

“They’re always arguing,” Barry points out.

“Sure, but so are we,” she replies, and then realises the implications. “I mean, like, if that’s what Wells thinks qualifies for a relationship…” she trails off, not really sure where she’s going to go with that sentence. She clears her throat, looking at her feet.

“He obviously just misinterpreted things,” Barry says, sounding weirdly terse.

Iris frowns as she begins to realise what could have put him in such a bad mood. She puts her hands on her hips and steps in front of him to halt him. “Wait, are you pissed off that he thought that?”

His eyebrows crease as he looks down at her. “No.”

She feels herself getting irritated, inexplicably. “Listen, buddy, lots of people want to date me.”

“Yes,” he says, through gritted teeth. “I am aware.”

“I’m just saying, I am a catch.” She pokes him in the chest to channel her indignation.

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that I don’t see why you’re so offended by even being thought of as dating me.” She juts her chin forward, and some far-back voice is telling her to leave this alone, to let the sleeping dog lie. “You’re obviously annoyed.”

He balks at her. “You think that’s why I’m-” His voice cuts off as two girls in pink walk past, chattering to themselves. He lets out a huff, and pulls her off the path and into the woods, away from any potential listeners. He lowers his voice as they stand, hidden by the foliage and tree trunks. “ _I’m_  not the one who was so offended by the idea of us dating.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He still hasn’t let go of her arm.

“Did you hear yourself in Wells’ office? Could you have denied it any more enthusiastically?”

She feels her eyebrows crease in confusion. “But we’re not dating. And he was going to make us sign some stupid forms, or something.” Then she frowns. “Wait, that’s why you’re sulking?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not  _sulking_.”

But it’s too late: she’s latched onto the idea now, and she teases, “You were totally sulking.”

“I was not.”

“Were too,” she counters, and she steps into his space, grinning. “Totally sulking because I said we weren’t dating. I wonder, Allen, what we can infer from-”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, because in the next moment he’s pushing her up against the nearest tree and kissing her with forceful lips and one hand curling around her jaw.

She gasps into his mouth and doesn’t waste any time in responding, throwing her arms around his neck and twisting a hand in his hair, kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm. All the unresolved tension from eight summers sizzles between them, and he won’t stop moving, hands stroking all up her back and hips pressing into hers and lips moving in a mind-blowing pattern.

He’s muttering something, something about how annoying she is, and how long he’s wanted to do this. She thinks she says something back except her mind can’t really process anything past ‘oh my god Barry’s kissing me and it’s  _awesome_ ’.

They break apart as they hear the shrieking of playing kids. Iris’ hands are still in Barry’s hair, and his arms are around her waist, fingers sneaking up the back of her top. They’re staring at each other, silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing. Iris licks her lips and Barry’s eyes track the movement. She exhales on a smile, weirdly happy. His own mouth stretches into a grin, and he leans down to kiss her again. But just before his lips touch hers, again, the stillness of the forest is interrupted by a, “Iris!”

She recognises that voice: Kendra. She pushes Barry away and starts running, instinct taking over, Barry hot on her heels. She finds her girls at the cabins, all staring in horror at their own. Iris slows to a jog as she reaches them. “What’s going on?” she asks.

Laurel wordlessly points to the cabin window, and Iris steps closer so she can more carefully examine. Her mouth actually falls open as she takes in the sight.

The cabin is full to the brim with Cheetos.

The snacks are packed tight against the window, and Iris reaches to unlock it from the outside. Everyone waits in silence. She pulls upwards, and is immediately hit with a wave of seemingly never-ending Cheetos. She closes her eyes in resignation, and waits for the worst of the flow to subside before she turns back to her team.

“I’m going to get some trash bags from my car,” she says. “We can clean this up. This will not defeat us, right? Red, red-”

“Red team!” Her girls finish the chant, and they go to open the other windows and the door. As she goes back to her car, Barry tries to stop her, stepping in front of her, but she just pushes past him, not afraid of her shoulder checking him in her anger and hurt.

The Cheetos are a bright yellow, the extra-cheesy kind. She knows exactly which cabin did this. And now she knows that Barry would do anything to distract her while the rest of his team got to work on a prank.

-

The cabin takes three hours to clear out, but the smell remains. Iris has to admit it’s a good idea. She’s putting on a brave face for her team, making them sing pop songs as they fill bag after bag with the snacks. The powder is  _everywhere_ , but she sneaks a hoover from the supervisor cabin later while everyone else is at the campfire, and clears out most of the damage. (And no, that’s not just an excuse so she doesn’t have to face Barry at the campfire, she just needs to clear it all up).

She’s in a foul mood, truth be told, but makes sure to put on a smile when the girls come back from the campfire, all letting out appreciative noises at the much tidier cabin, and chattering about the games they’d played. As they all prepare for bed, Thea comes up to Iris and asks, slyly, “Hey, thought you should know that Barry asked where you were.”

Iris rolls her eyes, though the message sends another stab of hurt into her stomach. “I’m sure he was just wanting to know whether I was preparing our retaliation.”

Linda makes a thoughtful sound. “You know, I overheard the purple team saying they were really proud of their latest prank. Are we sure it was the yellow team that did the Cheetos?”

“I’m sure,” Iris says. “But don’t worry, we’ll get them back.”

Felicity giggles. “Yeah, I’m sure Jesse definitely wants to get back at the yellow team.”

Iris narrows her eyes at her tone of voice, at the entendre. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Her and Wally were getting  _really_  close at the campfire,” Linda informs her, waggling her eyebrows. Iris is sure it’s just pre-teen gossip, but she’s also torn between protectiveness and pride at the thought of her brother flirting with one of her cabin.

She turns to Jesse’s bed. “Is that so-” Her voice trails off. The bed is empty. She spins back to the girls, instinct blaring alarm bells in her ears. “Where’s Jesse?”

The girls are silent, looking between them. “I thought she came with us to the showers,” Laurel says, but she doesn’t sound sure.

“We definitely saw her at the campfire,” Megan declares.

“Right.” Iris forces herself to remain calm. She doesn’t want to panic the girls, and Jesse’s probably just at the toilets or something. There’s no need to think the worst. “You guys stay here, okay? Don’t leave the cabin. One of you text me if Jesse comes back, and I’ll go look for her outside. Honestly, don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” she adds at the worried looks the girls exchange. She grabs her flashlight and leaves for the bathroom, walking quickly.

But Jesse isn’t at the bathroom, or the showers, or even the canteen. Iris prowls all the paths, going every way Jesse could have gone.

Wells words ring in her head:  _‘She’ll go wandering off by herself’_. And her own promise to keep her safe.

She checks her phone for the fourteenth time, but there’s still no message to confirm Jesse’s back at the cabin.

She should alert the supervisors. But she can’t bear the thought of having to tell Wells that she’s lost his own daughter, that she’s failed so awfully. She goes to the beach: one last check, and then she’ll alert the supervisors. She doesn’t know where else she’d go.

But as she gets onto the beach, she sees it’s empty. She even checks the beach hut, hands trembling as she opens it, but it’s silent, its only inhabitants resting kayaks and surfboards. She slams the door shut in her frustration.

“You okay?”

She spins at the voice, flashlight whirling and landing on probably the last person she wants to see right now: Barry.

He has his own flashlight, and he lowers it, tilting his head as he must take in the expression of her face. “Iris?”

She’s still furious at him, but the admission comes from her mouth unbidden: “Jesse’s missing.”

He steps closer. “So’s Wally.”

Honestly, she thought she’d already reached her limit of panic. But as his words register, and her grip slackens, her breath starts to come shorter and shorter. She was responsible for nine people at this camp, and she’d managed to lose two of them. All the leaders joked about King Shark and Gorilla Grodd in the forest, but god, there were so many terrible things that could happen.

All of a sudden, Barry is right in front of her, one hand on her arm and the other grabbing her palm to rest it on his own chest. “Iris, Iris,” he repeats, voice firm. “It’s okay. We’ll find them. Match my breathing.”

It takes a few moments – time that could have been spent searching, a vicious thought says – but she manages to get her breathing back under control, matching the expansion of her lungs to Barry’s. She steps back, and he lets her.

“We’re going to find them,” he says again. “They were chatting at the campfire, they probably went off exploring together.”

“Wells warned me that Jesse would go off by herself,” she agrees quietly.

“Right,” Barry says. “And you’ve said yourself how inquisitive Wally is. They’re both intelligent, but too curious for their own good. So where would they go?”

Iris wracks her brain, thinking hard to any clues from the past two weeks. Then she realises: “I told Wally the story about the conker tree.”

Barry frowns. “What?”

“Remember when we made that stupid bet? Like, five years ago.” The more she talks, the more she feels her guess is the right one, especially as Barry’s own expression clears.

“He was asking me about it the other night,” he says, and runs a hand through his hair. “Right, okay, so he took Jesse there to impress her or something.”

“Let’s go,” Iris says, too determined to realise she’s grabbed Barry’s wrist and is dragging him behind her. Her steps are quick, but his are long, and he easily keeps pace with her as they jog through the trees. “Do you remember where it was?” she asks.

“Kind of,” he hedges. “It was pretty central, right?”

She gets her pocket compass out just in case, but they both know this camp well enough to have general bearings, and wordlessly follow the same direction. She can sense that Barry keeps looking at her, and opening his mouth to say something, but her frostiness and stress is probably wafting from her, and he never follows through on making conversation.

They’ve been walking for ten minutes when Barry points at the ground, halting her with a hand on her elbow. “Look,” he says, and points to a sequin on the ground. At first, Iris thinks he’s just being an idiot, but the she recognises it as the same sequin found on all the new yellow shirts. “We’re on the right track.”

Iris can’t help herself. She cups her hands, and calls, “Wally! Jesse!” They walk forward, and Barry copies her, calling in all directions.

It’s another five minutes before there’s a slight echo of a reply. Iris stops Barry so they can listen carefully, and it comes again. “Iris!”

She starts jogging in that direction, calling out, “Wally!” They break out into a clearing, and there: the two kids sit, looking scared and small, huddled together on a tree trunk. As soon as they see Iris and Barry emerging from the trees, they scramble to their feet and run forward. Iris drops to her knees so she can hug them both properly, tightly. “You scared me so much,” she confesses into the shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse says, sounding close to tears. “Please don’t tell my dad.”

Iris pulls back. “Jesse, we have to-”

“Tell him only if we’re all not back in bed in the next half hour,” Barry finishes, shooting Iris with a meaningful look. “Come on, before Gorilla Grodd catches us.”

Wally breaks away from Iris – she’s tempted to throw her hand out to reclaim him, but then she watches as he runs to Barry, colliding his face into Barry’s abdomen and hugging him tightly. “Thank you for finding us,” she hears him mumble.

She watches as Barry curls to hug Wally back, and then something unfamiliar and, quite frankly, unwanted blooms in her chest and she turns away. She stands, holding Jesse’s hand. The two are obviously scared, but the important thing is that they’re safe now.

They all walk back to the cabins in relative silence. Jesse, at one point, whispers an apology to Iris, but Iris only tells her, “It’s okay – just please don’t wander off by yourself. You’ll give me a heart attack, never mind how your dad would react.” Jesse nods solemnly, squeezing Iris’s hand in gratitude.

They take Jesse back to the red cabin first: Iris’ heart swells when she sees that all the girls have stayed up, and immediately welcome Jesse back with hugs and exclamations and chatter. She tells them that she’ll be right back, and to go to sleep, and then wanders to the yellow cabin with Barry and Wally.

She crouches down as Barry opens the door so she can look her little brother in the eye. “Please don’t do that again,” she says. “I know you want to explore, and impress girls-”

Wally pulls a face, looking embarrassed. “I wasn’t- Jesse just wanted to go in the forest, and I told her the story. It wasn’t like that,  _god_.”

She hides her smile. “Sure, bud. Regardless: no more night-time wandering, okay?”

He nods quickly, and she pulls him in for one last hug before he scampers into the cabin. She makes to go back to her own hut, really not any more in the mood to talk to Barry than she was three hours ago, but then she hears him whisper, “You go to bed, I’ll be right back.”

She pretends not to hear his hissed calls for her, until he catches up and stops her with a grab at her elbow. She whirls, making him let go. “What?”

He frowns. “So you are mad at me. What’s going on? I thought…” He trails off.

“Of course I’m mad,” she replies frostily, because really, why should she even pretend not to be? “It was a dick move.”

He spreads his arms wide and has the audacity to look perplexed. “I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh, now she’s  _furious_. She jabs him in the chest. “You kissed me just to distract me while your cabin pulled that Cheeto prank. That crosses a line, and you know it.”

He balks. “What? You think- Iris, the Cheeto prank was Cindy. And anyway, I would never-” His expression falters. “You really think I’d do that?”

She hesitates.

He steps further into her space, but she doesn’t look up, having run out of righteous anger. Now, she’s just nervous of what he’s going to say. “Iris, I kissed you because I’ve wanted to for eight years.  _Not_  because of some stupid prank war.”

“Oh,” she repeats, lamely. Her pulse is fast. She thinks of every summer for the better part of a decade, of being excited to make new friends and try new activities. She thinks of every time she got competitive with Barry, or annoyed or silly or excited.

She dares to look up at him, and sees his smile, his sparkling green eyes. She can’t help her own smile that erupts on her face.

He leans closer to her, gently cupping her hips. “If I kiss you again, do I have to promise it’s not because of a prank?”

“The Cheetos were bright yellow!” She protests around a growing smile.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re so paranoid, honestly. I can’t believe you were sulking-”

She cuts him off with a firm kiss. Honestly, now she thinks about it, she wonders how much bickering they could save on just by shutting the other up with a kiss – she’s certainly interested in investigating the hypothesis further. He wastes no time in responding, curling his arms around her back and almost lifting her up off her feet in his enthusiasm.

“But-” she says as the sobering thought occurs to her, and she breaks away from him. “Wait, we’re going to college in a few months.”

He rolls his eyes, and leans down to kiss her again. “Not a problem.”

She half-heartedly slaps at his shoulder. “Yes, it is! This isn’t going to work if we just see each other every year for a few weeks.”

He lets out a sigh, as if she’s being difficult for the sake of it, and leans his forehead against hers. “Iris,” he explains impatiently. “Wally told me you’re going to Central City as well.”

“As well?” She repeats, not daring to believe it.

He nods. “It has the best forensic science course in the area. And, I believe, the best journalist course as well.”

She can’t believe he knows so much about her. She also can’t believe she’s wasted eight summers only pranking him instead of dating him.

“Well, then,” she says, reaching up to loop her arms around his neck, pleased at his instinctive hold on her hips. “I guess we’re going to have to go tell Wells that our circumstances have changed.”

-

Cisco ends up winning the prank war – but as Iris stands, covered in feathers and honey and watching her boyfriend laugh at her while he helps to pull the feathers out of her hair, she thinks that maybe she came away with the best victory this summer.


End file.
